


shuichi wonders.

by ToxicPineapple



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Gen, Introspection, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 07:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20503424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: but it might be worth it to look at the planet, which often seems so large but at that distance would seem so small, from a different perspective. to see the mountains and the plants and the water from far, far away. it might be worth it to float around in the black of space and know he's somewhere few people ever get to go. it might be worth it because it was what kaito wanted so bad when he was alive.---while he and maki and himiko go to visit their graves years after ending danganronpa, shuichi wonders.





	shuichi wonders.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to see the stars.

years of training and education and hard work would all add up to one single moment where he straps himself into a rocket and shoots off of the earth by means of an explosion.

rather than dark blue oceans and light blue skies he would find himself swimming in a sea of black, where all the animals and plants are red, blue, and white stars. he would do breast stroke past all the dying balls of gas and find himself connected to a rocket by a line.

if he releases it, that's the end. he's gone. the chances of him dying, if he went to see the stars, would be high. 

but it might be worth it to look at the planet, which often seems so large but at that distance would seem so small, from a different perspective. to see the mountains and the plants and the water from far, far away. it might be worth it to float around in the black of space and know he's somewhere few people ever get to go. it might be worth it because it was what kaito wanted so bad when he was alive.

_i can't die, i haven't gone to space yet!_

what a ridiculous incentive, and yet... it's the only thing that truly makes shuichi wonder about it.

if he underwent those years of training and became the astronaut kaito had always wanted to be, would they allow him to reach out a hand and touch those stars he'd be so insanely close to? would they allow him to swim between them and dip his head beneath the waves, opening his eyes despite the salty sting of the water and look around at the beauty underneath?

no, they wouldn't, because that would mean certain death. but that doesn't sound so bad either.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to play the piano.

he imagines his fingers, placed perfectly on white and black blocks, and they all make sense to him and he knows what each and every one of them is and how to find them even when his eyes are closed.

the sound of music pouring from his soul would become a familiarity rather than a thing of dreams. the now familiar notes to clair de lune could help lull him to sleep those nights when the melatonin won't.

reading sheet music would be similar to reading a book. bass and treble clef would cease to be different languages, would speak to him in a way english never could, and he would read them with his fingers rather than his mind.

major chords and minor chords and scales and arpeggios and harmonies and key changes would be second nature rather than something to admire from afar. things he's never understood, but kaede did- that's why she called herself the piano freak, right?

he wishes he could've heard her play.

he wonders if his fingers would even dare to fall upon the keys of a piano, if they wouldn't just freeze and shake like they always do with the memory of her body, hanging stiff and cold from the chain clamped cruelly around her neck. the notes on a piano are beautiful, but not so much without her to play them.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to steal something precious.

to take someone's most treasured item and demand they give him money. to throw back his head and laugh at their tears.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to be friends with all parts of nature.

walk alongside the animals and the bugs and feel compassion for everything, even the tiniest insect. to wish only for all parts of his life to get along and adore each other. not a selfish bone in his body.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to be selfless. to be distrustful. to be faithful.

shuichi wonders how it would feel to pull back a tennis racket knowing he will catch the ball square in the middle.

shuichi wonders how it would feel to flip somebody onto the ground and know, without words, how they are feeling, and how to help.

shuichi wonders how it would feel to be so lonely his soul creeps out of his body and he can only express it with lewd jokes- all attention is good attention, after all.

shuichi wonders what kind of person he would be if he could find the beauty in everything, even the ugliest things. if he could see the silver lining without thinking it's cliche or naive, if he could be inquisitive and smart and careful.

shuichi wonders what kind of person he would be if he wasn't a person at all, if his entire existence consisted of his struggle to define his own humanity to people who he shouldn't have to prove himself to.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to love something so much that he would give it his all, and then accept his death before he would see it end.

shuichi's hand stops before he can put down the last ruby red rose on the grave. he notices it shaking but blames it on the cold rather than his hesitation.

it's been so long since he's been here, the simple act of putting flowers on their graves feels alien to him. it's hard to believe he once did it every day, hoping to burn through the millions of dollars team danganronpa gave him as compensation for the pain he was forced to endure in that final killing game.

he couldn't, though. even if he bought enough of these red flowers to last a lifetime, he'd still have more money. and he can't bring himself to blow it all on something like alcohol, or cigarettes.

"you don't have to put one down for her." maki's voice from behind him and his empty hand is suddenly full with hers, fingers wrapping together automatically. her hands, gloved, are warm, and his, bare, are cold, but he barely feels it. he can't take his eyes off the gravestone.

"i know." he mumbles. "but it feels wrong to leave her out. she was our friend too, once."

"she killed kaede." maki points out softly, and shuichi leans his head against her shoulder.

"we all killed kaede." he tells her, just as soft, and maki doesn't correct him.

it's taken years for them to get to this point, where they can just talk about it like this without screaming or crying. the hand holding and the hugging all came naturally, easily, like the winter. even if they weren't compatible at all, they still would've loved each other, because no one else in the world could've understood what they'd been through.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to love someone who doesn't understand how it felt when monokid's severed head, stained with kaede's blood, rolled to rest at his feet.

he places the flower down in front of tsumugi's grave. "i wish i could've understood her better."

"do you think that would've changed anything?" maki is asking this genuinely, not to be mean to him. they know this much already.

"no." he shakes his head. "but maybe i'd feel better about it."

she doesn't say what they're both thinking. the person who tsumugi shirogane was in that game was not really tsumugi shirogane. nobody in that game was who they were in the real world. kaito did not want to see the stars and kaede couldn't have cared less about the piano and kokichi was not a thief and gonta did not love bugs and kirumi was not selfless and rantaro was not distrustful and angie did not believe in god and ryoma did not play tennis and tenko did not do aikido and miu was not lonely and korekiyo did not love humanity and kiibo was not a person. not in the real world. not before danganronpa.

but shuichi didn't know any of them before danganronpa.

he turns around when maki places a hand on one side of his face, brushing away tears with a gloved thumb. she's asking with her eyes if he's okay even though they both know that he's not. she isn't either, and neither is himiko, who is waiting for them in the car because she couldn't bear looking down at tenko's grave for too long. (she never did move on from that.)

"let's go home, maki." shuichi says quietly.

his hand finds its familiar resting place on her waist and hers on his shoulder as they walk away but his head is still up in the stars playing piano.

they all were who they said they were, no matter what.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to keep from loving for so long because he's so afraid of losing until he finally does love and then it's ripped away from him, just like he thought would happen.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to hate something until it's taken from him and he realises that he loved it all along.

shuichi wonders what it would be like to be weak, and then strong, and then weak again, until blow after blow after blow shapes him and finally makes him strong enough to hold up the weight of the sky, and of all his friends' sacrifices.

shuichi shakes his head. he doesn't have to imagine, that one.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for this gang I was feeling kinda sad and then it just happened :^))) you can blame my being a real sad boi over Saimatsu for the past couple hours
> 
> though to be fair I've been meaning to work on a post-game fic for a while now I just haven't gotten around to it
> 
> no VR AU this time uwu we like suffering in this house
> 
> ugh writing this made me sad
> 
> I'm kinda weak for post-game Shuichi/Maki though ngl,, they deserve to be happy.
> 
> it's three am I have a lot of regrets dhsnhhdhdj y'all have a good morning ig lmao


End file.
